Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered
by Kate Dessi
Summary: After several months of Draco Malfoy bugging the heck out of Hermione Granger, bribing her with expensive chocolate and even more expensive meals at fancy restaurants in London, she might give him the forgiveness he'd been asking for... and perhaps more.


**Disclaimer: This is a work of _FanFiction_ using characters from the Harry Potter world, trademarked by none other than J.K. Rowling. Other names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products solely of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.**

**Warnings: OOC / Fluffy / Profanity**

**Timeline: Post-Hogwarts / EWE**

* * *

"Hey, Granger."

A soft sigh was heard. "What do you want?"

Draco Malfoy leaned back against the door he had just closed behind him as soon as he entered Hermione Granger's office unannounced. "Not a lot; forgiveness and very possibly redemption."

"Then you won't find any here," she answered without looking up from the parchments she had been perusing before he interrupted sitting on top of her desk. "Now, if you're looking for a Puffskein or two, I might help you with that. Merlin knows we have too much of them crawling about in every nook of the entire department." There was no exasperation in her voice despite her words, merely a dismissing tone.

"Hmm," Draco murmured thoughtfully. Very casually, he walked over to the front of her desk and sat down, assuming a comfortable position with his back against the seat his elbows braced against the sides of the chair, his legs stretched in front him and his ankles crossed. "I didn't appreciate the last note you sent, you know. _The devil take you, Draco Malfoy_ was very rude and I expected more from a woman of your stature. And here I thought my little gift sweet. Now tell me what you mean by your reply."

Finally, Hermione looked up with a barely concealed scowl. She leaned against the back of her seat, her arms crossed over her chest and her brown eyes narrowed at him. "I thought it was pretty self-explanatory."

"Like I said, I didn't appreciate it. And there's absolutely nothing pretty about it."

She rolled her eyes at him.

Some months ago, Draco Malfoy had barged in her life seeking redemption from his past sins or so he said. He had sent half a foot long parchment expressing his regrets, explaining his actions and words, and ending with a question on how he was going to be successful in making amends with her. She didn't bother with a reply. Two weeks later, he had sent a box of chocolate truffles with a simple note inside saying 'Please'. She almost penned a reply but decided not to in the end. Even when he sent her two boxes more.

One evening, just before her shift ended, he showed up in her office to invite her for dinner. Instantly she had said no but h—being the cunning Slytherin he was—managed to convince her to go with him. Unfortunately for him, he did not receive the "I accept your apology" he had been looking for from her. Dinner happened more than once. Four times now to be exact. Why she let him, she wasn't sure... alright... she may or may not be enjoying his company.

Now just three days ago, she received a big bouquet of assorted flowers ("the sweet gift") which prompted a lot of teasing from her colleagues and had spread all throughout the Ministry. The talk had yet to die down and every time someone smiled or winked at her or teased her about the flowers and Malfoy (just about everyone knew that he came by to see her regularly including the Minister), she would blush deeply. At the amount of teasing about the two of them, she was wondering if the blushing from her cheeks and down to her chest would become permanent.

She came to the conclusion that this was part of his plan—the reciprocation of everyone she knew in the Ministry—by sending flowers for no absolute reason at all! The jerk! She was then convinced that he did that so she'd be the speculation of the Ministry. Thus the note she had sent to him a day after she received the flowers, 'The devil take you, Draco Malfoy.'

"I came by to know how you're going to make it up to me for being so rude," Draco was saying offhandedly.

Her eyes flared in surprise. "Pardon me?"

"You shan't be pardoned. Not until you make it up to me."

"And if I'm not willing?" She rolled her eyes.

He smirked at her. "I'll make you willing." He pulled out something from underneath his robes. A familiar box. He placed it gently on top of her desk.

"This is bribery," she accused as she looked away from the box of temptation and into his grey eyes.

He threw his head back and laughed. He had her. "So I found out your weakness. Sue me."

She flipped open the box, grabbed a chocolate truffle and popped it in her mouth with a small moan. She chewed for a short moment before letting the chocolate goodness melted completely in her mouth. He was right. This was one of her weaknesses ever since she could remember. There was no way in hell she could resist these little balls of sweet heaven. "I accept this gift. What is it that you want from me?"

"You mean in the past months I've bugged the hell out of you, you still don't have any idea?"

"Well, not that. How am I going to make up to you with my _very_ offensive note?" She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes as she picked up another chocolate truffle. "I'm still thinking of ways on how to get rid of you."

He snorted. "That's not what Potter told me on my way up here. Says you've wondered where I've been. Missed me, did you?"

She laughed. "You flatter yourself. I was wondering if you actually took my note seriously and went to hell."

"Aww, Granger. You never told me that you cared about me."

"I don't," she denied swiftly. "However, I do care about maintaining peace in my life and it seems impossible whenever you barge in my office once or twice a week."

He studied her for a long moment then he smirked again. "You never told me that I had that kind of effect on you. I'm flattered, Granger. Really. I'm not exactly Britain's most wanted bachelor."

She snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Britain's most wanted maybe."

"Don't be a bitch, Granger. It doesn't become you," he suddenly snapped. It was a touchy subject for Draco—his being a Death Eater.

She winced. "Yeah, sorry," she murmured. "Bad joke."

He was a silent for a moment before his expression softened again. "Now you really have some serious making up to do."

She groaned, closing her eyes and slumping back against her chair. "Malfoy," she complained. "Why won't you leave me alone? If I told you I forgive you for all the bullying and the such, will you leave me alone forever?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't mean it," he said quietly.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. "What if I told you I would?"

This time he didn't answer and he even glanced away from her. "Granger, it's eight o'clock in the evening on a Friday and you're cooped up in your office like the hermit you are. Pack up your stuff. I know a place where you can make it up to me."

She gave a noncommittal response. "Am I going to pay? Because if it's where you took me the last couple of times I might have to refuse. Too expensive."

"Oh no," he said with a small smile. "We're going to Muggle London."

That caught her attention and she sat up in her chair, suddenly perky. "Well, then."

A half hour later, they found themselves cooped up inside a booth in a nearby pub, nursing their respective drinks as they waited for their food. Hermione regulated the pub for takeout after several late nights in the Ministry and she actually had gotten to know some of the employees here.

"This is not bad for a muggle drink," Draco commented after he took an initial sip of his beer from tap.

Hermione scrunched her nose in distaste, perfectly content with her soda. "I never cared much for alcohol. Ever. I don't know what anyone would accomplish when they're buzzed."

"Drinking alcohol doesn't necessarily mean you have to get buzzed."

"I suppose. I still don't like the way it tastes."

"It's not for everyone, I guess." Slowly, he grinned at her. "So did you like the flowers?"

A scowl crossed her features. "No. And thanks for reminding me. Because of your little stunt, I am now the main speculation of majority of the employees of the Ministry. And my friends. And even the Minister."

Unfazed, he took another sip of his beer. "It was another attempt at peace-offering since three—now four—boxes of expensive chocolate truffles doesn't seem to do the trick. I thought I'd go for a different approach."

"Well, your different approach had rumours swirling around the Ministry about us."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "What are they saying about us, Granger?"

She felt herself blush but she ignored it. "I don't recall exactly and does it really matter?"

"I think it does."

"Your opinion hardly matters," she scoffed.

He grinned. "Never mind my opinion then. What are they saying? Tell me."

"No, Malfoy. Shove off."

"Come on, Granger. Tell me. I'm sure it's not that big a deal."

She growled. "Fine! They are saying if you and I are... umm..." she stammered, "you know..."

"No, I don't."

"Lovers," she snapped. "There. Are you happy now?"

"Not particularly, no." He shook his head. "Are they really saying that? Funny. Whenever I come by, you only end up shooing me away and all but yelling at like a banshee. Except, of course, when I insist on taking you out for dinner."

She had to smile at that. "Hey, it's free dinner. I can't very well pass that up now, can I?"

He rolled his eyes. "At least tonight's your treat."

"No problem! Food and drinks here are quite cheap. Glad that you decided to be adventurous and brace yourself in the Muggle World."

"Yeah. It's not that easy," he admitted sheepishly. "If my being here in a crowded muggle pub doesn't prove to you that I'm being genuine with my intentions towards you then I don't know what else will."

She shrugged.

Their food came and they ate in silence until they finished half of their meal. "Malfoy," she said quietly, unable to help herself.

He looked up at her questioningly. "Yes?"

"What are we doing here?"

He blinked. "Um. Eating?"

She shook her head in bemusement. "I meant this! Why are we having dinner together now? Why do you keep bribing me with expensive chocolates? Why to so many questions and I believe you're clever enough to guess what those questions are."

"I don't know," he said slowly, a frown on his face. "I don't really know. I guess... I can't move on with my life. I'm trying so damn hard. I talked to Potter and to his wife. I talked to the Minister. I talked to just about everyone who is significant. They accepted my apologies. They called truces. Except for you."

"Oh, Malfoy," she sighed as she flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry."

"But I do understand. You're the most undeserving of my insults and ridicule. Potter embarrassed me in front of a crowd so I bullied him. My family and the Weasleys have always been caught up in a feud since the early 1900s. I have every reason to bully them and you... well, you did nothing to me but I—you—"

"I'm not exactly Ms Popular at the time," she cut in softly. "I admit that I can be quite bossy and infuriating. I cringe every time I remember my snooty attitude back then. And as I recall, most of my Gryffindor classmates were annoyed with me majority of first year."

"Yeah. Well, you're still annoying, you know."

She pursed her lips.

"Annoying in a good way?" he tried with a small smirk.

She rolled her eyes playfully but she got serious again. "I don't hate you, Malfoy. I'm incapable of hating—at least that's what I'd like to believe. Even if I did, I wouldn't have accepted four boxes of incredibly expensive and incredibly delicious chocolate truffles from you. And I definitely wouldn't be paying for your dinner tonight."

"Guess I just needed the words." He smiled almost sadly at her. "I like you just the way you are, Granger. Don't ever change."

She froze at the randomness of his last two statements. "Uh. Wha—?"

"You're still bossy and infuriating as ever and you still have a snooty attitude. Everyone might be opposed to it but I'm not. You won't be you unless you have all these traits."

"Uh. Thanks?" She wasn't really sure if she was being complimented or being insulted repeatedly. And did he actually say he liked her?

"You're welcome." He went back to his food.

She didn't because she couldn't. "Does that make us friends then?"

"Good Merlin, no." He had spoken it so quickly that she was offended and before she could start hexing him, he spoke again. "We are... unlabeled."

She frowned deeply. "It doesn't have to be so complicated, Malfoy. It's either yes or no. Friends or not?"

"I can't really answer that. I don't think I know how to be a friend."

"How is that even possible?"

He gave her a look.

"Well. Of course, of course," she muttered quickly with a smile. "You only know how to boss around your lackeys and I'm definitely not going to be a lackey to you."

He snorted. "If anyone's bossier than me, it's you, Granger."

"I should be offended."

"But you're not."

"No."

"Good. You should know by now that I have a wry sense of humour. Only the cleverest of wizards and witches are able to catch up on. Sad, really, for me. I don't have that much clever acquaintances."

"With the exception of who else? Me, of course." She burst into genuine laughter. The previous dinners had been short of being friendly, if not stiff. Recently, she had grown accustomed to him and she would like to think that he felt the same with her.

He smiled at her laughter. "Conceited little witch."

"Hey!"

"At least you're not denying it." Without preamble, he held out his hand to her with his palm facing up.

Hesitating for just a moment, she placed her hand over his and bit back a gasp when he closed his hand over hers tightly. They had not willingly touched each other before. His hand swallowed hers and it wasn't smooth and soft as she had expected. It was somewhat rough but there were no calluses. "Malfoy?" she asked, uncertain as she curled her hand over his as well.

He was staring down at their clasped hands.

A throat cleared from above their lowered heads and they jumped, their hands flying away to their person and underneath the table.

"Centre cut ribeye?" The waiter asked in a neutral tone.

"Mine," Draco quipped and the waiter placed a dish in front of him, the scent filling his nostrils.

"And goat cheese ravioli for Hermione. As usual." The waiter's demeanour changed as he smiled down at Hermione.

She looked up and met the waiter's smile with a surprised one of her own, thanking Merlin for the distraction from the slightly awkward moment with Malfoy. "Oh it's you, Callum. How's it going?"

Callum was a young, tall, muscular and handsome muggle. He had tattoos that covered all of his arms. "Pretty good, thanks for asking," he answered as he placed the dish in front of Hermione, ignoring Draco. "Lovely to see you dining in for a change. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all." With a wink, he left their table.

"Well, shall we eat?" she said to her companion.

Draco gave a stiff nod.

They ate in total silence–not really awkward but also not really comfortable. They were both lost in their own thoughts, both interpreting what had passed between them a while ago.

It was weird to think that way about the other. They were polar opposites, were they not? But how was it that they had so much to talk about? How was it that they shared the same views and opinions, political, economic and whatnot? How was it that both their most favourite book were Most Macabre Monstrosities? How was it that they both had dry wit that would catch other people off guard and have them guessing but make the both of them laugh?

She lifted her eyes to steal a glance at him but to her embarrassment, he did the same. Their eyes met for a second before they looked away from each other, cheeks flushing lightly, acting like teenagers on their first date.

He cleared his throat and looked back at her, waiting until he caught her glance again before he spoke. "Directly after the devastating battle at Hogwarts, I was supposed to disapparate with my parents back to our home in Wiltshire but I wasn't concentrating and I ended up landing in a small village not too far away from Hogwarts called Ballindalloch. I had splinched my lower leg off. I couldn't find my wand."

She winced in response but stayed silent.

"Not an hour later, I was delirious, practically unconscious and had a raging fever. I landed some feet away from the road and when a couple of hitchhikers were to take a piss near the place I was lying on, they helped me after screaming their arses off and when I pointed to my unattached leg, they both puked all over each other but they carried me off when they got their wits together. Took me to a muggle hospital. There was a man there who was a muggleborn. He realized what happened to me and got me out of there as soon as we can before the muggles could get their hands on me."

"How did you manage to leave without getting caught?"

"Douglas, that's his name by the way," he added, "grabbed my leg inside a plastic beside the bed the medics took me to and then he just disapparated us away behind a set of curtains. Took me to his own home to clean me up a bit before flooing us both to St. Mungo's. I was a really bloody mess."

"What an adventure with only three quarters of your legs," she said with a smile.

He grinned back. "They managed to stick back my leg but I stayed at St. Mungo's for over a week because I had an infection. Douglas stayed with me the entire time I was there–he's in his 50s, treated me like the son he never had, he says. Fretted over me in ways my own father never did. He went back to Ballindalloch to find my wand for me. He's really nice. Course I didn't let him know. I was still resentful that time, you see." He licked his suddenly dry lips. "Don't know why I'm telling you this, Granger."

"I'm glad you are."

"I bullied him, called him a number of names and threatened to hex his bollocks off but he was a stubborn bloke. Sent an owl to my parents letting them know what happened, assured them that I was fine, and when my parents came to St. Mungo's, he went back to Ballindalloch.I went back to the Malfoy Manor when I was discharged. I stayed home for a month to think and then I went back to the Highlands."

Her eyes flared, not expecting that. "For what reason?"

"I don't really know," he admitted a bit sheepishly. "I felt a bit drawn to him I guess after saving my life like that? I was a stranger but he didn't hesitate to help me. I would have died. Who knows what the muggle healers would do to me? Anyway, I found him and I realized that he fixed the mess we left in the muggle hospital with the help of the Ministry of Magic."

"And then...?" She leaned forward in her seat, eager for more.

"The day I came to him, I told him who I was and everything I had done. I never told anybody and when I was speaking to him, it all came pouring out of me." He paused. "Like now as I tell you about what happened to me."

She stayed silent.

"He didn't care, just told me I was given a second chance for a reason and what that reason is I won't know until it's in front of me."

"He is a wise man," she commented with a small smile.

He nodded in reply. "Lovely man but a big bully."

She gaped in astonishment. "You let yourself be bullied by this Mr D-Douglas?" She let out a small laugh.

He smiled. "Yes. Changed my mind about muggles and the like." His smile disappeared immediately. "While we were sitting in his back garden, he suddenly grabbed my arm and slashed it. Not very deep but deep enough to let out a trail of blood. He did the same to his arm and told me, 'look at your blood and look at mine. How is yours any different, being you a pureblood and I a muggleborn or a mudblood as the lot of you would like to call us?'"

Her jaw dropped in shock.

"I couldn't answer him. After he healed our arms, he made us dinner and talked to me about being a Malfoy that it's just a name and sometimes it doesn't really mean anything. Well, the name Malfoy is derived from French which literally means 'bad faith'. Suits me perfectly. Joke's on me, eh?"

She didn't know what else to say so she let her eyes speak to him. Wide and soft with compassion, she wanted to leap over the table and hug him close to her. Oh, Malfoy. Misunderstood. All this time.

"Get that look out of your eye, Granger," he suddenly spat out, getting on the defensive. "I don't need your pity."

"Pity," she repeated incredulously, taking the bait. "I don't pity you, you miserable oaf." She pursed her lips as she turned back on her plate and stabbed a piece of pasta with her fork.

"Miserable oaf, am I?" he growled.

"Yes!" she all but screamed, her frustration rising. "You're a miserable oaf! How could you even suggest—?" She shook her head. "There's nothing to pity about you, Malfoy. So you had a bad couple of years. So did everyone else who was involved in the damn war! Don't play the wounded soldier. So Voldemort played you and your family. You didn't know what my friends and I went through. You think you had it bad? Well, think again."

Silence.

"You're so conceited," she continued, her voice lowering. "Why do you always have to think everything is about you? Well, it's not."

"Finally," he said hoarsely. "Now we have it out in the open."

* * *

Draco Malfoy's grey eyes were narrowed as he watched a man approach his fiancé of three years in a way that was far too friendly for mere acquaintances. His upper lip curled in a sneer as the man touched his hand to Astoria Greengrass's hand and lingered there. Surprised, her eyes dropped to the big hand covering hers and to Draco's astonishment, she blushed prettily as she looked up to look into the man's eyes. The man stopped speaking and seemed to be leaning down to kiss her. On the lips. He was quite sure. She looked dazed as if she had fallen under the man's spell. The gap between was shrinking... shrinking... shrinking... but at the last minute, the man drew away from her sharply.

Draco frowned in confusion, swirling the wine inside his goblet. He should be hexing the man's balls off. Even though Astoria and the man hadn't done anything yet to his knowledge, desire was evident in their body language. He should be jealous just with the way they were acting now. He wasn't. Why? He asked himself. Yes, he cared for Astoria. She was young, smart and confident... but she was also selfish, manipulative and conceited. Quite very much like him which was why they got along so brilliantly.

They were, in fact, also good friends. Marriage with her would be... well... what's the right word? He thought hard for a moment and only came up with one word: _prudent_.

His face scrunched up in distaste. Marriages weren't supposed to be like that! His own parents, contrary to popular belief, loved each other very much. He was going to be honest with himself and admit that he wanted a marriage like theirs.

Perhaps Astoria did too? Her older sister who was also Draco's friend had a loving marriage that transformed the former Slytherin into a completely different person. Maybe not completely. Daphne Greengrass who was now Daphne Zaimov was still a bitch. She just turned to a pile of mush whenever her Bulgarian husband, Milen Zaimov, was around.

Draco saw that Astoria and the man had engaged in a lively conversation. Both of them were subtly touching each other every now then. Astoria was smiling brilliantly. He'd never seen her smile—or anyone for that matter—like that.

Actually. There was one.

He'd seen Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley strolling down Diagon Alley hand in hand a couple of years ago. She was laughing while he was smiling down at her. He'd thought then, 'they don't belong together'. He wasn't sure why that thought had passed his mind but he ducked his head before they noticed him.

His stomach clenched at the thought of the insufferable know-it-all.

All he ever wanted was to redeem himself.

That and earn her forgiveness.

She was one of the reasons why he'd delayed his getting married to Astoria. He wanted to move on with his life without any recriminations and reservations. He wanted to live the rest of his life peacefully. He didn't want his conscience nagging him years later. He didn't want his future children to ask about his past life and think that he was a bad man. He wasn't. Really. He just made the wrong choices. He spent months troubling himself just for that forgiveness.

He just didn't expect that he'd be falling for her.

How could he had been so stupid to let it happen? Every time he was with her, he forgot that he was engaged to be married. Every time she smiled at him, he forgot who he was. Every time she laughed at something he said, he forgot who she was.

That fateful night when she had been conversing—flirting—with that waiter at the pub, it was all he could do not to throw a fit of jealously. He had no right to be jealous. Damn it. He had absolutely no right. Especially when he was engaged to another.

A flash of guilt tore through him. Not for Astoria but for Hermione Granger because he felt that he should have told her that he was engaged.

Each day that passed, the engagement felt like a sham. He did truly care for Astoria but not the way he should have. Every kiss felt wrong. Every touch felt fake. He didn't want her the way a man wanted a woman. He—

"What the bloody hell am I thinking?" he mumbled to himself before downing the rest of his wine in one gulp. Maybe it will improve over the years when they were finally married but that thought of kissing her and touching her left him feeling nothing but disinterest if not distaste.

He bloody wanted Hermione Granger instead.

_There's nothing to pity about you, Malfoy. So you had a bad couple of years. So did everyone else who was involved in the damn war! Don't play the wounded soldier. So Voldemort played you and your family. You didn't know what my friends and I went through. You think you had it bad? Well, think again. You're so conceited. Why do you always have to think everything is about you? Well, it's not._

She hurt him more than he would care to admit but damn it, she was right. He was conceited. He thought he carried the world on his shoulders when Voldemort held him by the throat while she, Potter and the rest of her friends risked their lives since they were _first_ years. Hell. When he was in first year, the worst thing he thought that could happen to him was for his mother to deprive him of the sweets she sent him every week. Yes, he knew about the troll in the dungeon. She'd slipped up when they were having one of the few meals together.

He knew that he was self-centred but he never thought himself to be handsome. He knew he wasn't exactly attractive to most girls. He was too thin and too pale. He looked almost sickly. He did notice the way she looked at him sometimes. There were times when their gazes clashed and he'd notice her pupils dilate. That kind of reaction can never be faked or hid. What of the way her eyes lit up as she laughed at something he had said?

She was attracted to him... but she wasn't the type of woman who acted on her feelings.

It would have to be up to him.

He had a chance. He knew he did. Because if she really hated him she wouldn't be persuaded to dinner, to endure his presence, to tolerate his barging in on her while she was working and she wouldn't have eaten the expensive chocolate if she didn't trust him. And the flowers? If he didn't know any better, she secretly liked it.

There was only one thing that was standing in the way. His gaze shifted to Astoria Greengrass who was still in conversation with the unknown man.

Nobody ever said that he was an honourable man. He was a Slytherin and a Malfoy to boot. He had no qualms about others' feelings when he could get what he wanted. He wanted Hermione Granger. He could have her. He was cunning, clever and manipulative. If she didn't want him, he could make her want him.

He was going to manipulate his way to her heart.

Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

Why did no one ever tell Hermione Granger that guilt was a major pain in the butt?

Three weeks after that fateful dinner with Draco Malfoy, there was still no word from him. She hated the fact that she had to blow up on Malfoy when he was merely opening up to her.

By this time she realized that when he called out on that pity episode that it must probably a defense mechanism; he was vulnerable that moment, he wasn't used to opening up to people and when he said the wrong thing, she just chose to snipe at him.

He didn't deserve it, she thought miserably.

She wanted to blame it on PMS. She was impossible (more than the norm) during "that time of the month" and since she was dealing with a certain proud Slytherin, it was impossible not to lose her temper. She should have been her normal, compassionate self and assured him that she didn't pity him but rather her heart reached out to him. To be truthful, she might not have blown up on him if she hadn't been experiencing PMS.

Why did it even bother her? When they were in Hogwarts, he insulted her and bullied her every chance he got and he didn't lose a wink of sleep over it. As for her, she couldn't sleep more than four hours each night, instead tossing and turning forcing herself to sleep and willing thoughts of Draco Malfoy away from her head. She supposed that she had too much fun that evening which was why she acted that way; her own defense mechanism. She didn't like that she was beginning to think of him as more than... well... Malfoy.

Why did she have to care about him so much suddenly?

She sat up from her bed in alarm. Did she just—? "No!" she said out loud with the slightest bit of horror. "I don't care about Malfoy! No!"

After a long moment of silence, she almost wailed because... she didn't mean what she said. She did care about him but not in a romantic way. Of course not. Definitely not. More like she cared if something bad happened to him. Of course, just like every other person in the Ministry.

Really.

Against her will, images of the former Slytherin flashed within her mind. Draco Malfoy genuinely smiling. Draco Malfoy scowling. Draco Malfoy smirking. Draco Malfoy throwing his head back laughing. Draco Malfoy glaring. Draco Malfoy in a civil conversation with Harry Potter.

And then, the sight of their clasped hands on top of the table in the pub.

She liked that part best.

She groaned and collapsed back on her bed.

What was happening with her? Surely she wasn't attracted to that—Slytherin! She can't be! It's Draco Malfoy we're talking about here!

She suddenly felt like crying... because, finally she admitted it to herself, she was. Certainly she'd been attracted to a number of men but she didn't act on them.

But no one had to find out about that, did they? If anyone asked her if she enjoyed Malfoy's company, she would lie. If anyone asked her if she was laughing because of what Malfoy had said, she would lie. If anyone asked her if her skin tingled every time he accidentally touched her in an innocent way, she would lie. If anyone asked her if she sometimes find herself looking into his grey eyes and getting lost in them for a second or two, she would lie. If anyone asked her if she felt butterflies in her stomach every time he smiled at her, she would lie.

She had never been a good liar.

Truly, truly she was hopeless when it came to the matters of the heart.

Her first boyfriend had been her best friend, Ron Weasley, but they had broken up after two years but managed to stay friends.

One year later, she met Dexter Everett at the Ministry and they dated only briefly due to the fact that she discovered that he had been interested in her because she was somewhat famous in the Wizarding World, seeking his five minutes of fame.

Nine months after her separation with Dexter, she had reacquainted with an old Gryffindor classmate who was also working at the Ministry at the time, the tall and the now-surprisingly handsome Dean Thomas. Ginny, who dated him briefly during Hogwarts—assured that it wasn't weird for her, merely warning her that: "He tends to be overprotective, clingy and pushy, but why don't you go for it? Surely he's changed now." He hadn't. After dating for five weeks, they broke up.

Now three years later, she found herself attracted to Draco Malfoy.

She was a mess.

Or perhaps she was just overreacting. She just needed a good night's sleep. Probably a relaxing weekend out of town. That sounded like a good idea. Or it must mean that she seriously needed to start to (at least) think about dating again or she'd end up a cat lady. She winced at the thought; a cat lady like Dolores Umbridge. She was, after all, twenty-seven years old and still single while almost all of her friends were married and on their way to having kids while she was cramped up in her office, advancing her career.

When she would see Draco Malfoy again, she'd have forgotten about her little crush and remain civil if not friendly with him. He wasn't that bad, really, truth be told if not for his pompous attitude, smug exterior and inflated ego. It merely took a lot of patience to handle this man... and she had plenty of patience to spare.

Alright, most of the time.

The next morning she found herself having breakfast with Harry and Ron at the Leaky Cauldron which was now under the management of their good friend Neville Longbottom and his wife, Hannah.

"...mighty nice of him," Harry was saying.

A low rumble came from Ron's chest. "I still don't trust him."

"No one asked you to, Ron." Harry sighed.

"Which is good. I still don't get why you have to tolerate Malfoy—!"

Hermione immediately choked on her tea at the mention Malfoy's name who had now been tenant of her thoughts the past three weeks or if she was honest with herself, the past several months ever since he sent that first letter. She coughed a couple of times before Ron, who was sitting beside her, started to thump her back with his big hand.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," she said hoarsely before glaring at Ron who was still thumping on her. "You can stop abusing me now, Ronald." He smiled sheepishly at her as he took his hand off and started munching on his fifth bagel. "What were you two talking about?" she asked the two of them. "I kind of drifted off."

"We noticed," Harry said with a small smile. "We were talking about Malfoy."

"Yes, I gathered that when Ron mentioned his name," she said impatiently with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Why were you two talking about Malfoy?"

"There was an article about him by Rita Skeeter at the front page of the Daily Prophet today."

"And? What did she have to say about him this time?"

"She reported that Malfoy has been funding the children's ward of St. Mungo's for a few years now and that she suspects that he has a child who is an in-patient there since he has been seen visiting the place at least twice a week bringing many bags of clothing and food."

She was silent and still for a long time.

"And I saw him in the park playing with a little boy once," Ron piped in with a mouthful of food. "Kinda looks like him. Blond, thin and pale like him. I'm guessing the boy is around 9 years old. Hard to say. Anyway, Rita Skeeter may be telling the truth for once."

Harry watched Hermione's face carefully. "You two are friends, aren't you, Hermione?"

"No," Hermione replied soberly. "We're not friends and I haven't seen him for some time now."

"Well, that's good," Ron said, relieved, before taking a big bite of another bagel and Hermione had to hide a scowl.

"He goes to St. Mungo's every Thursday and Sunday evenings," Harry offered carefully. "Or so Skeeter says."

Hermione caught Harry's eyes. 'Thanks,' she mouthed. He smiled back in reply. "He isn't really that bad anymore, Ron," he said before grabbing a bagel for himself. "In fact, he and Ginny get along really well."

Ron shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "I don't really care, Harry. Anyway... did Ginny mention the Quidditch game that George planned on Sunday to you?"

When the two men started to talk about the Quidditch game, Hermione got lost in her thoughts again. Today was Sunday and if Rita Skeeter was telling the truth he would be in St. Mungo's. She glanced at her wrist watch. It was half past noon. Plenty of time to decide.

* * *

"Hi."

Draco froze at the sound of her voice from behind him. Ever so slowly, he turned around to face her. He kept his expression blank out of fear that she would see the joy in his face. "Granger," he all but choked out. "What are you doing here?" He almost groaned. She was so pretty, standing there underneath fluorescent light of the children's ward at St. Mungo's. She was wearing a yellow dress which surprised him because she had never been one to wear dresses because she was practical that way.

"Looking for you," she said.

He smiled. She had never been one to mince words. "Well. You've found me."

"So I have."

His eyebrows raised when she didn't say anything further. She was looking up at him with a small frown but he was sure that she was aware she was wearing one. She must be having an internal debate, he concluded. "Granger?" he prompted.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted out. "I didn't really mean what I said that evening. That week had been... trying. My hormones were flying everywhere and I'm almost to the point of bipolarity. Then you were feeling sorry for yourself when you shouldn't have been. You're Draco Malfoy. You're a proud man. I said those things I thought you'll get defensive but you didn't. You just accepted it. You should have fought back."

He shook his head. "No. You were right actually. Everything you said was true. But I don't care about that anymore."

"You don't?" Her brows furrowed with uncertainty.

"I don't. To me it's rather irrelevant now. I just want to forget everything. Besides what you said wasn't _that_ damaging. I've had worse." He smiled ruefully. There was no way in hell that he was going to admit that he really was hurt. He was, after all, still the same Draco Malfoy. His pride couldn't take any more damage. He wouldn't change just because he was stupid enough to fall in love with Hermione Granger. "But it is nice to play the wounded party this time. I've always been the bully and you've always the victim. Tell me," he paused at the amazed expression on her face, "how does it feel being the bully?"

She glowered at him. "I couldn't sleep. I thought I—"

"Hurt me? Me? No, no, no," he said with a fake laugh. "But if you need the words, I'll say it. I forgive you, Granger. I don't want you losing any sleep over me," he lied. He _so_ wanted her wide awake late into the night, thinking about nothing but him.

Her chin seemed to quiver. "I thought I lost you."

This time, he was unable to keep up with nonchalance. His jaw went slack. "W-wha—" he stuttered.

"I thought I wouldn't be getting any more expensive chocolate," she murmured, her eye twinkling with mischief, "and free meals in fancy restaurants in London."

Was she...? Surely not...? This was Hermione Granger! It sounded like she was flirting! With him! He opened his mouth to speak but found no words to say. What am I supposed to say? He thought frantically.

"I've begun to actually think of you as a friend."

Just like that, he shut down.

_Friend. _

The word echoed in his ears, taunting him, and somewhere in the recess of his mind, someone who sounded like Ron Weasley was laughing at him. _Malfoy, you stupid Ferret. Did you really think Hermione would give you the time of day? _He pushed that away from his mind. She wouldn't be standing in front of him now if those taunting thoughts were true. Insecurity was a bitch.

"Malfoy? Are you alright?"

He forced a smile. "Yes."

"Look. I want to make it up to you and I won't take no for an answer. Are you done visiting for the evening? We don't have to eat at Muggle London this time." She smiled.

Yes! Say yes! His mind taunted. It took everything in him to say, "No, Granger. I can't."

He felt remorse when her smile wavered.

Before he fell for her, he wanted to see her tears, to see her damaged and hurt, to let her see that she didn't belong in his world. Now all he wanted to see was her smile and her laugh. Merlin. He was such a bloody sap. He used to pride himself as a tyrannical bastard. There was no question that he wasn't that kind of person now. At least when it came to her. He fought the urge to growl in frustration.

"Why?"

He hesitated. Might as well let her know. "I'm working tonight."

She blinked. Once. Twice. "You're working," she repeated.

He was blushing when he spoke again. "I'm a trainee healer. Here. At St. Mungo's."

Her eyes shifted away from his face and down to the rest of his body which was clothed in standard light green robes. "So you are," she squeaked.

"What?"

"I'm surprised," she admitted when she regained her composure. "But if you think it inappropriate for me saying that I'm proud of you, forgive me. I knew about your funding the children's ward but I didn't know about you being a healer."

He smiled ruefully. "No one knows except my family and the entire hospital staff. As for the funding, it's true but it's only in my name. My parents are doing it for the sake of my reputation. You saw Rita Skeeter's article today, didn't you?"

She shook her head. "No. Ron and Harry merely told me about it. I make it an effort to avoid anything that vile woman wrote since 1994."

"I only work the night shifts and I try to avoid being seen whenever I come in. Also I don't have a kid," he told her. "Just a best friend. His name is Jago and he has no one. He's an orphan. I usually spend most of my days off with him which is every Thursday and Sunday." He paused thoughtfully. "Would you like to meet him?"

"Really?"

He nodded. "He would love to meet you actually. He has one of those chocolate frog cards of you."

"Malfoy," she whispered with a soft smile.

"Yes?"

She suddenly leaped into his arms. His eyes widened but managed to catch her, wrapping his arms around her. They stumbled. He was no muscle man so he fell on the floor with an audible oof! The inner Malfoy was sputtering indignantly but he ignored it and on top of that, his butt was throbbing. He didn't care. Hermione Granger was hugging him.

He couldn't help himself.

He inhaled.

She smelled so good—sweet and soft—so unlike her personality.

She pushed against him, her hands cradling his neck. "I'm overwhelmed by this revelation, about you, Draco Malfoy. Whoever said you're not a lovely person will have to face the end of my wand because you are. You are lovely."

He revelled in the feel of her body against his. His loins were stirring and he didn't care if she felt because he wanted her to know. So he was pervert like that. Whatever. He smiled at her. "Lovely is such a—_girly_ word, Granger. Can't you think of anything else?"

"No."

He smile still in place, he spoke again. "I can't make it for dinner tonight. It's supposed to be my day off but since I haven't got anything to do I thought to clock in... that and I'm kissing arse, really. What about breakfast tomorrow morning...?"

"That's perfectly fine with me."

He nodded, satisfied.

"We should probably move," she suggested after a few moments.

"We should but I don't really want to. Do you?"

A pause. "No," she finally said.

They were both blushing quite furiously.

* * *

Hermione couldn't figure out what drew Jago and Draco together. They were polar opposites and they bicker a lot. She watched as they debated over something or the other, probably Quidditch while she watched the two of them at the same time internally punching herself for acting the way she did a couple of hours ago.

_Why did I do that? Why? Why? What must he think of me? A slut! Hermione, Malfoy must think you're a slut!_ She almost snorted out loud. No one would ever accuse her of that. Even Malfoy. The truth was she was just so touched, so overwhelmed finding out about another side of Draco Malfoy that she couldn't help herself. Now her attraction for him multiplied ten times!

Her attention focused back on her companions. They were done fighting and they were now wrestling on the bed, laughing loudly. She'd never seen Malfoy more animated before in her life. Perhaps Jago was bringing out the best in him.

In the past months he'd been bugging her, she was getting to know him. To be honest, he was still the same Malfoy in more ways than one. He was still arrogant, pompous and stuffy. Sometimes he couldn't help himself being a bully. Patience was the secret ingredient if one was to survive in Malfoy's company. She could only keep up with him because she had plenty of patience to spare and every time he went too far, well, let's just say that he wouldn't be able to speak for an hour at least—thanks to a handful of spells.

Jago was indeed what Ron had described. Blond, pale and thin. Just like Malfoy. But that was the end of the resemblance. Whoever accused Malfoy of being Jago's father was blind because Jago had lively green eyes and mouth that was used to smiling.

Jago was a happy-go-lucky kid, Malfoy told her on the way to his room once they were back on their feet. His parents had died from dragon pox not three years ago. Grandparents from both sides were also long gone and both his parents were only child. He was technically alone in the world and so Malfoy was doing everything he can to not make him feel that way.

"Why are you doing this for him?" she'd asked him. "It's not like he's anything to you."

"It's what Douglas would have done," he'd answered without missing a beat just before they reach their destination, went inside the room without knocking with her following awkwardly, not exactly sure what to expect when meeting Jago.

In her mind, she thanked this mysterious Mr. Douglas for making a good man out of Draco Malfoy. She was an overanalyzer by default. Malfoy must have seen himself in Jago and he couldn't himself but reach out to the kid. Right then, she realized that she didn't want to over analyze Draco Malfoy anymore. She just wanted to... get to know him.

"Hey, Hermione! Look! I just killed a monster! Ha-ha-ha!"

Initially Jago was shy when Malfoy introduced her to him. He wouldn't speak, wouldn't move and would avoid even catching her eye. Thankfully after spending so much time with the next generation of Weasley kids, she knew how to handle Jago.

Hermione can't help but laugh as well when she saw Malfoy sprawled on his back on the bed, his head lolled to the side and his tongue sticking out while Jago was sitting atop him bouncing in triumph.

"I am the great Harry Potter!" Jago cried out, his fist pumping up and down over his head. "You don't stand a chance against me, Evil Monster!" He let out what Hermione could only call a battle cry.

By this time, she was weak with laughter, bent over her knees, her arms clutching her stomach. Malfoy had sat up sputtering indignantly, once again red in the face. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Jago." She winked at him.

"Don't encourage him," Malfoy snapped at her. "Get off me, Potter! My father will hear about this!"

Hermione fell off the chair, tears streaming from even more laughter.

When Hermione was waiting for him just outside St. Mungo's early the next day, she was a nervous wreck. The previous times they dined together were more or less blackmail. Today was different. It was supposed to be her turn to 'blackmail' but it felt different. She'd dressed up for one thing and she wore makeup—just a little bit and was barely even noticeable. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that she didn't do this for Draco Malfoy but for self-confidence, yet she also knew that it wasn't true... therefore, here she was, fretting about whether she was making a fool of herself.

She did ignore the way her heart jumped to her throat when Malfoy walked out of the building. He stopped, looked around, spotted her and began walking towards her. His strides were long and purposeful. She swallowed with difficulty when the gap between them shortened.

When he was standing in front of her, he was sort of smiling. Was he as nervous as she was?

"You—ah—"

Her brows shot up expectantly, bracing herself for words that might be unpleasant.

"You—"

"I—?" she prompted.

"Y—you look breathtaking," he said quickly, so quick that she almost didn't catch his words. "Please don't hex me for saying that. No, I'm not lying. No, I don't have ulterior motives. Plus this is your idea so I haven't planned anything that would devastate you. Even If I did, what would I gain? There are better chances of you hexing my face off rather than me doing it to you." He even raised his hands up in defense.

She let out a startled laugh after his monologue. "Malfoy," she said in amusement with a matching smile, "I wasn't thinking that of you. I've been seeing you regularly for the past several months in your insistence except for the last three weeks, I'm not worried if you're going to try anything." She then gave him an exasperated look. "And you're right about the last bit. I'm Hermione Granger. Brightest witch of her age and all that. I can definitely hold my own."

"Yeah. You certainly can," he readily agreed.

She waited expectantly. When he didn't even speak or even move, she prompted, "Shall we?"

A curt nod.

When they were walking away from St. Mungo's and down the sidewalk, dodging the other people who walked with them, he was unusually silent, worrying Hermione. She decided on a neutral topic. "Have you read anything good lately?"

His tone was aloof. "Yes. I read a muggle children's book called Manxmouse the other day."

"Really? It's one of my favourite books as a child. Did you like it?"

"So-so." From her peripheral vision, she saw that a hint of smile graced his face but it was gone in a heartbeat. "I probably would have enjoyed it more had I read it twenty years ago. It was... adorable, I guess you could say. Jago liked it, I think. He kept saying that 'this book is for kids' but not once had he asked me to stop reading."

She groaned inwardly. If she was being constantly reminded of how different Malfoy was now, she would never be able to get over her crush on him... why did men who "redeem" themselves had to be her kryptonite? It was her compassionate side that was touched by Draco Malfoy and that vulnerability that he fought hard to hide.

"Granger."

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"I was engaged."

"What?"

"I was engaged to Astoria Greengrass for some years," he hesitated, "If you remember her. She's a few years behind us. I broke it off just the other day."

"Just the other day," she repeated incredulously. He stopped walking and to her shock, his hand circled her wrist and pulled her to an empty alley. "Malfoy, what—?" She found her back against the wall and him leaning over her with a fierce look in his eye. She wasn't scared. Never. She was just bewildered.

"She can't tolerate Jago. She thinks I'm wasting my time training as a healer. She doesn't feel any obligation, do you know what I mean? She doesn't stand for anything. She's so shallow. She reminds me so much of myself when I was younger. I don't want to be that person anymore. I love Jago. I'm not sure if I look at him as my son or my younger brother, either way I really do love him. As for me being a healer? I want to look at it as my atonement for everything I've done and what my family has done. It's not fair, Granger. It's... I'm not supposed to be off the hook so easily. It isn't right. I have to pay for my mistakes."

Her heart broke for him. "Malfoy, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I know," he said with a short bark of laugh that lacked completely of humour. "But you understand me."

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"Is this what's been troubling you?" she was frowning when she asked this. Something dark and silky wrapped around her throat, making it difficult to breathe, threatening to suffocate her. Betrayal. She swallowed it down.

"I'm sorry. It's been eating me up. I thought you should know that all this time I didn't even think to tell you," he hesitated, "but she was relieved when I broke the engagement. In fact, she was just finding the right time to tell me so I saved her the trouble for dramatics." A wry smile.

"Oh."

It took a few moments for Draco to regain his composure. He never planned to let her know but there was something about her that made him want to tell her everything about him. He certainly didn't mean to open up to her again. He realized never in his life he had a confidante. Other than Douglas, it was hard to let himself be open to another person. With Hermione Granger, it would rather be easy to expose himself. She never judged, which was what he liked best about her.

When he looked back on the times they'd dined together, not once had she opened up to him. Suddenly, he felt foolish.

"I'm sorry," he said again for possibly the hundredth time in the past several months, "for laying out all on you like that. I don't know why I keep doing it. I know you probably don't care about my petty problems." He moved away to lean against the wall beside her.

She was silent for a long moment. "You're wrong," she said finally. "I do care. I don't want to, Malfoy but I do, damn you! I'm not even supposed to. After Hogwarts, you should have let things lie. I would have happily lived the rest of my life forgetting about you and your bullying."

She might as well have driven a dagger in his stomach. It would probably hurt even less. He felt his head drop slightly. "I know I should have but..." He shook his head. "I don't know why either, Granger, but all I know is that I can't stay away from you. I don't want to."

"Why did you really break your engagement?"

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Because of you, he tried to answer but he couldn't.

"What's going on with us, Malfoy?" A soft whisper.

He turned his head and saw that she was looking at him with a sad smile. "I don't know, Granger," he said hoarsely.

"This is all your fault. Like I said, you should have let things lie."

"My fault? As if I have control of everything?"

"You didn't need to send all those chocolates! You didn't have to buy me dinner! You could have just stayed away!"

"I told you, I can't!"

She wasn't finished yet. "You didn't have to care! You didn't have to have changed so much! You didn't have to turn into such a wonderful man. I wouldn't have to be in this mess! I was perfectly content being alone and you just—" she abruptly stopped speaking.

"You didn't have to care either," he said softly. "It's okay. It's going to be fine."

"No, it's not." To her horror, her eyes started to sting with tears and she whirled away from the wall, presenting him her back. "Malfoy, this is a disaster."

"I know, Granger."

"I thought it was just a crush," she said with a choked laugh. "It was supposed to be just that simple. A silly girl's crush. Just a simple case of attraction. It's more than that, isn't it? Last night changed everything. You let me see a different side of you."

"Granger... Hermione." It was all he said before she felt his arms go around her waist from behind and pulled her against chest. She let him. "Don't hex me." A hot whisper against her hear and she shivered. "Just tell me you want me to go away and I will. You won't see me ever again."

"I can't."

He nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck. "I know."

"Damn you."

He laughed and to his delight, she slid her hands to cover his hands which were resting over her waist. "We've been running around in circles all this time, Granger."

"Yes."

"You have me bewitched."

"You have me bothered."

"Hot and bothered?" he murmured teasingly.

"You wish."

"Yes, I do."

She laughed and she twisted so she was facing him, the arms around her tightened. When she realized how close their faces were, she smiled but when she felt a different part of him prodding insistently against her waist, she blushed. She was no means a virgin but she wasn't exactly experienced either.

He seemed to realized this and his eyes widened before he laughed sheepishly. "Sorry."

She shook her head, deciding not to acknowledge it instead, lest things might get even more awkward. "I'm really hungry and I have to be at the Ministry before nine."

Reluctantly, he retreated. "Let's go then."

When he made a move to leave the alley, she made a last minute decision, hoping that she won't make a fool of herself because of him yet again. "Wait."

"Yes?" he asked when he turned back to face her.

She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and smashed her lips - rather clumsily - against his. He froze for a fraction before his eyes drifted close, placing his hand on her nape and angling his head to kiss her more properly. They fumbled for a few moments before they gained their momentum. Her hands crept up his chest to clutch the front of his shirt while he responded by wrapping the other arm around her waist to crush her against his chest.

While he wanted to push her a little bit further, he was but a mere man and he was helpless to his desires, he still wouldn't dare risk something so new, so precious, so easily breakable. This was probably his only chance with her. If he ruined it now, he might hate himself for the rest of his life. Not everyone was lucky enough to get a chance with Hermione Granger. He knew many other wizards covet after her for many reasons—her fame, her intelligence, her looks, her fierceness, her determination, her dedication—but he only wanted her because she was who she was.

If he could go back in time, he would and do things differently but he couldn't, didn't have to, because he had been given a second chance.

He pulled away from the kiss, gazing down at her. Her expression mirrored whatever he was feeling and the sight of her lips, red and swollen from his attentions made him feel a little smug.

His body felt alive for the first time in years. He felt more in that kiss more than any sexual encounters with his fiancé.

She smiled up at him then and it was all he could do not to blurt out the _three words_ that nagged him for several months. He couldn't help himself. He leaned down and gave her a quick, soft kiss, pulling away before she could think to respond or else he would have all but ravaged her right here in this alley.

It was all he could do to pull her away from that alley and into the crowded streets. He held her hand as he had longed to do for a long time. To his delight, she didn't attempt to pull away. Even when people who recognized both him and her, giving them astounded stares, she still held his hand.

They were both clever people. They knew that this was going to be a fight until the very end even though they haven't talked about it. They didn't have to. He was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger. That knowledge alone was enough to know that things weren't going to be easy for the both of them.

But it was all going to be so damn worth it.


End file.
